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The Wandering Waitress*. A Guide to Traveling the World One Tip at a Time.

So you want to give up everything, eh? Move to another country, get a job in a small café in Australia and become a beach bum? It’s easy to do and you don’t need a university degree to do it.

Deciding to become a professional service person was no easy task; and with over two decades in the business I need to be awarded the PhD in excellence! Seriously the shit I’ve heard and seen, all the fake smiles and thank you’s I’ve had to give just to receive your gratuity. They were generally never genuine, those smiles. I only did it in hope of a big fat giant tip at the end of your session. Sometimes it worked and sometimes it didn’t. But when it did, “Thank You!”

You have helped me set foot in countless countries, allowed me to dine in fine evening clothes (even if we ate at Subway.) Your tip has ridden a donkey up a steep mountain in Greece, set sail in The Whitsundays, barfed its way back up in Brazil and Cuba. Yes, your dollar or three has successfully put the stamps in my passport and the smile on my face.

However, it wasn’t easy. You know, seducing you. Your wife wasn’t a challenge, she didn’t care that when you looked in my eye, yours sparkled. She was too busy looking out the window, taking in The Falls. I saw your faint corner smile and gave you enough flirtation that your oblivious spouse would never suspect. We toyed with each other over baked calamari. She rambling on about her broken finger nail, manicure … blah, blah, blah. And you, you continued to play with my desire; cutting into the medium rare steak with an utter smoothness it made my insides stir. Dessert could not have been sexier. Strawberries and real cream, drizzled with hot dark chocolate, oh hell yes. At this point your wife hadn’t looked nor acknowledged me since I handed you both the menu. My smile winked into your eyes and I knew a big fat tip was coming, yes, just by your eyes. As I turned to go I could feel your steely blue gaze on my taut back-side. Oh, indeed there was something special for me at the end of this night. No coffees ordered, she wanted to head to the casino to watch the main act. You wanted to stay and watch my the view. The bill in your hand, pen to paper; you signed on the dotted line. “Have a great evening and thank you.” I said, as you put on your jackets to leave. Your last smile and words gave it all away (I didn’t even have to look.) “We had a great dinner, and you are the best server we have ever had. Very professional, thank you.” The digits were increasing in the closed bill fold, though you’ve already signed. With you and her out the door to watch some lame country singer at the casino, I opened the billfold. Two zero’s. Twenty-five percent tip! Thank you for your eyes, and your gracious tip. It will be used to climb mountains, sail the seven seas and dine in fine establishments along the way.

So you see folks. If your cunning and play your cards right you can get just about anything your heart desires.

There are elements of this I REALLY love – especially the way you describe spending their tips … brilliant!
As someone nannying to fund my travel addiction, and smiling and whistling to parents at the end of the day in the hope of doubling my pay, I definitely understand where this is coming from 🙂
C-C xx